


Battle Chant Lovesong

by 13Kat13



Series: Cosmic Siren Song Playlist [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Courtroom Drama, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Neuro crew are friendship goals, PG Tips monkey, Sci-Fi, Science Fiction, charming people and generally fucking about, don't worry kids we're still pg, he's not in it dw, pretty boys still in space, still so thirsty, with a side of GAY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-30 00:09:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13938396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13Kat13/pseuds/13Kat13
Summary: "Victor nearly swoons. Yuuri is a being born of ice and stone, baptised in blood and stardust. And he looks into the faces of the Council, clothed in the dress of his people, with the fierce eyes of one that has seen atrocities. And turned them into strengths."Fifth Space Siren AU instalment. THE TRIAL IS UPON US. Councilwoman Lilia Baranovskaya will see you now.





	Battle Chant Lovesong

**Author's Note:**

> I am SO excited to finally bring you the trial folks. My god I nearly got whiplash writing this. Never written courtroom drama before, but there's plenty of fun in with the very formal speech patterns etc. Enjoy!

Victor stands before the full length mirror in his bedroom, looping the button of his uniform collar into place. He makes a paradoxical image. The muted grey tones and clean lines of his jacket and trousers play off his natural colouring to give a calm, easy canvas that sparkles with youthful vitality. But the colours of his clothes and sharp lines of his face also connote an undeniable steel.

 

He is the youngest Space Fleet Officer to make Captain. He has the highest number of successful Grade Four missions — the highest and hardest grading — for the time span he’s been active in, and his career is shaping up to have the highest amount overall. He’s already the driving force of a young, radical thinking generation of the army. Outspoken, witty, and intolerant of injustice. Give him a few years and he’ll have those views in office, printed, signed and legalised.

 

Whilst all this backs up his looks, it also brings a lot of baggage into the arena Victor’s about to enter.

 

The Council. Made up of a mix of ages but with mostly conservative views, it looks upon Victor like the rebellious teen who’s helped reshape and revitalise their initiatives. Though not all agree with the form they’ve taken under him. Whilst the answer to the trial seems obvious, what with the crimes humans knowingly and unknowingly committed, they’d love to put him in his place. And they have enough ammunition to do it too.

 

There are exceptions of course, Lilia Baranovskaya being an obvious one and their ace in the hole. But there’s a few younger councilmembers too that Victor’s hopeful for, some of them he’s already made the acquaintance of, being who he is. But whether these more forward thinking members have the experience, the pure devious metal to bend a case to an individual’s will like the old warhorses, is quite another matter. He just hopes Lilia can be the compass for them he knows she’s capable of being.

 

Victor’s distracted from his image in the glass as Yuuri steps out of the bathroom behind him. Victor turns.

 

The siren’s wearing a similar dress to the first one Victor ever saw him in, Yuuri’s favourite of his various styles. The halter collar leaves his strong, golden shoulders bare as it swoops down to skim his body, relying on the thinness of the material and only minimal cinching to highlight his slender waist. The skirts are full but delicate, the various layers falling at different heights and picking up to drift around him as he moves, so light they seem to move in a breeze that doesn’t exist.

 

“Love,” Victor sighs the word in his mother tongue, feeling both the nickname and the emotion behind it.

 

Yuuri smiles at him, and it’s bright and hopeful and full of complete and utter faith. God he is going to die for this man if he has to. Not that it’ll come to that, capital punishment is not the Council’s style. Jail for some, and political, occupational and financial ruin for others. This is no doubt seen as a death to some.

 

“I don’t think I tell you enough...” Yuuri says, a slight drawl to his words and a prowl to his walk as he comes forward. Victor’s heart squeezes in anticipation. “How much I love your uniform.”

 

He meets Victor’s open arms and presses himself close, looking up with eyes that are dark and heavy, the hint of a smirk on his lips. Forget the Council, Victor’s already at great risk in this very room.

 

“You see it every day,” Victor manages to tease, his own mouth hitching up even though he’s feeling very weak for the siren right now. When is he not?

 

“I do,” Yuuri agrees, and leans back a little to drag his eyes down Victor’s torso before flicking them back up, meeting Victor’s gaze through his lashes. “Must be why I want to do such terrible, terrible things to you all the time.”

 

Victor, who cannot resist Yuuri most of the time but gets taken by this seductress form like a lightning strike to the body, can only keen.

 

 _“Yuu_ ri,” he whines, pulling the siren back in close and burying his face in Yuuri’s neck. “Don’t make me pop a boner right before I go out before the Council. I don’t think it’d do my case any favours.”

 

“On the contrary,” Yuuri laughs, bright and delighted at his effect on Victor. “I think it’d help very much. Certainly would if _I_ was the judge.”

 

Victor has the sudden image of Yuuri, swathed in Council robes and looking down at him from a high perch behind a desk. Possibly with a leg slipping out from between the folds of cloth and his glasses on. Victor moans weakly again.

 

“Okay,” Yuuri conceded and steps back in Victor’s arms.

 

Victor pouts, having decided that he didn’t really want Yuuri to stop and would desperately like to take his siren back to bed right now.

 

“You ready to go?” Yuuri asks, smirking like he knows what Victor’s thinking as he trails his hands down to find Victor’s.

 

“‘Kay,” Victor agrees, feeling more like himself than the hard shell he’d been preparing moments ago. It’s still there, the steel, but now he has his siren and his love undeniably warm in his heart.

 

They’re met on the descent down off the ship by members of Victor’s crew, some of whom are testifying like Seung-Gil, Chris, Mila, and Otabek, and others who are there for moral support; Sara, Leo, Phichit, and Yuri. Victor sees a couple of cadets and lower ranked Officers hovering too and appreciates their concern, but there’s a limit to how many people one can bring to a Council trial.

 

Phichit and Chris soften their exit onto the docks with jokes of course. It’s nice, but Victor finds he doesn’t need it. He has all the strength he needs holding tight to his right hand, laughing along with Phichit. Victor smiles at Yuuri, feeling invincible in that moment though he is fully aware of what awaits.

 

It’s another bright spring day as the group make their way through the city to its centre. They’re careful not to be too loud so as not to appear obnoxious and over confident, but they reach the Council House with determined smiles on their faces.

 

There’s news vans on the street of the Council House. At Victor and his crew’s arrival there’s a outbreak of activity, swarms of reporters and cameramen pushing forward to reach them. But this is Council ground. Security straight from the ranks of the army divide and conquer the hoards of reporters with military precision, so the crew of the Neuro can slip through a path between them with ease.

 

When they reach the marble steps of the main building there’s a small, hunched figure awaiting them there. A head of reddish brown hair lifts to reveal a boyish, freckled face, a book propped on the knees folded up in front of him. There’s a moment of confusion in the boy’s eyes, raking over the group as they break through the crowds, but then Guang-Hong Ji finds his mark.

 

“Leo!”

 

The shout echoes off the marble of the surrounding buildings as the boy launches himself up and towards them. Leo laughs and has time to step forward and brace himself before Guang Hong collides with him, small body impacting his midriff as arms latch firmly around him.

 

“Hey, Gu,” Leo says into the boys hair, his lanky frame bent to return the hug.

 

Although Victor has always found the navigator friendly, there’s a soft fondness to Leo’s expression that until now has not made an appearance. This is a piece of information Victor files away for himself, but from the look on Phichit’s face the young deviant is already plotting.

 

“Guys,” Leo says, turning with that warm smile still on his face. “This is Guang Hong. Gu, this is everyone.”

 

Leo says the last with a general wave in all of their direction, but Victor steps forward, hand extended.

 

“Guang Hong,” he says, making the boy’s eyes go wide and his smile a little slack. “It’s an honour to finally meet in person. I’d like to thank you again for your part in our last Grade Four mission.”

 

“Not at all,” Guang Hong assures him, slightly breathless as he gazes up at Victor.

 

“It was of great personal risk to you,” Yuuri’s voice joins in, and Victor turns to see his siren stepping up beside him, smile calm and reassuring. “I can’t thank you enough for involving yourself. I’m glad you’re here today.”

 

Yuuri bows his head a little then, a gesture Victor had seen a couple of times from sirens in general and is starting to understand is a cultural thing.

 

“It really…” Guang Hong says, his voice going up an octave higher as he takes in the siren, “wasn’t anything.”

 

“Only an explosion on a cruiser,” Leo points out, nudging Guang Hong with his elbow. “In zero gravity with no oxygen to catch you. Not a big deal at all.”

 

Guang Hong hushes him sharply, eyes still very wide in Victor and Yuuri’s presence.

 

“Seung-Gil helped me fix it,” he points out, flashing a grateful look at the Chief Science Officer, standing stoic and silent behind the couple. “It really was only a minor explosion, and artificial damage.”

 

The words sound like Seung-Gil’s, and Victor turns to find that the Officer is indeed nodding along.

 

“You did well under instruction,” is the stiff praise he offers, face not showing a hint of any emotion the others brought to their thanks. Guang Hong seems pleased nevertheless.

 

“Can we go in already?” Yuri grumbles, and Victor turns to see the boy’s shoulders hunched, eyeing the reporters and others around the Council House.

 

Victor notices them too now. Some of the people in suits who’re being allowed through by security are undeniably involved in the courts held within, and take only a cursory interest in the Space Fleet group gathered on the steps. But others are just outright staring, and Victor notices that a lot of these are directed at him, Yuuri, or Guang Hong.

 

“Yes,” Victor agrees quickly, and takes Yuuri’s hand again to lead the group into the Council House.

 

Phichit and Chris have toned down the jokes by now and seem intent on quizzing Guang Hong instead. Victor chooses to ignore an innuendo laden question from Phichit, no doubt encouraged by Chris, about how Leo and the boy met.

 

The hall of the Council House is a hive of activity. Unforgiving heels tap out staccato patterns across the marble as smartly dressed people come and go, diving off into corridors, heads bent over pads or tilted towards their watches as they talk. It never fails to make Victor’s skin crawl, despite the impressive architecture and cold calm the building’s supposed to exude. He just likes flying his ship with his friends. He doesn’t want these politics clinging to him.

 

But Yuuri’s hand is still warm and real in Victor’s grasp, and he feels a reassuring squeeze from it. Victor looks down and sees Yuuri slipping him a smile before turning to answer a question from Mila.

 

They’re met halfway across the hall by a woman, clad in a sharp trouser suit and with waves of dark hair. She’s pretty, and has a loose posture that clashes with this hard place. But she smiles professionally at Victor as she extends a hand.

 

“Captain Nikiforov?” she checks, her free hand clutching a pad close to her chest.

 

“Yes?” Victor replies, slightly apprehensive for who this woman could be. For all he knows she’s a reporter who tricked her way inside. Unlikely but not impossible.

 

“I’m Anya, I’m a Judicial Assistant here,” the woman explains, and Victor feels his chest loosen. Of course, this is just procedure, he’s not getting ambushed. “If you and your companions would like to follow me, please?”

 

The party do so, Victor overhearing hushed, hurried words in Russian from Georgi to Mila as they do. From the few that slip through, Victor guesses Georgi’s about to have a new obsession. God help both his Science Officer and this poor woman.

 

They’re lead directly through security and into the Council Court, which is a little off putting as Victor had been hoping to catch Lilia beforehand, but can’t be helped. The room’s already almost full even though they’re plenty early, and Victor’s surprised until he remembers what this case is. And who’s at his side.

 

The ceiling of the Court arches high above them. An oval room, the width wider than the length with rows of benches on either side of them facing the court space. Beyond the railing separating the seating area from the court there’s a focal point of a long, curving table of black marble to their left, which faces the benches side on. It’s made for the theatre of court, both the person on trial and the faces of the Council easily visible to the onlookers.

 

They make their way between the rows of full seats, a hush falling over the inhabitants as the group pass. They’ll be a mix of interested law and army professionals, along with a few very select reporters. The crew and friends arrange themselves along the two reserved front benches on the left side, offering a slightly better view of the defendant rather than the Council but still in the middle. Victor sends his mental thanks to Lilia for ensuring they have enough room for all the support they’ve brought along.

 

“Seeing as the everyone’s here early,” Anya says, leaning over the railing that separates the observers from the active court, which she’d carried on through to. “I’m going to go and see if the Councilmembers are ready to come in. Do you need anything?”

 

Victor shakes his head but looks to Yuuri. The siren is staring at the black table to their left, a small frown between his brows, but he shifts his attention to the young woman at the question.

 

“Water, please,” he says, and then adds politely; “would be lovely, thank you.”

 

He gives Anya a soft smile that automatically has the woman’s lips returning it.

 

“Sure thing,” Anya agrees easily, and turns to stride across the room to a door behind the black table.

 

Victor barely has time to grin at his mate’s ongoing ability to charm everyone in the first five minutes of meeting them, before Chris elbows him.

 

“I am _so_ excited for this,” Chris says, leaning a little closer to Victor’s ear from where he’s sat beside him.

 

“Excited?” Victor repeats, looking at him with surprise.

 

“Oh yes, Captain,” Chris agrees, tipping him a wink. “This is sure to be highly entertaining.”

 

Victor can only grumble a little, but doesn’t bother to remind his First Officer that he’s supposed to be testifying. Chris is his second in command for a reason. He is taking this seriously.

 

A few minutes stretch by with Victor looking out the tall, arched windows that sit beyond the stretch of space for the court, offering views of the beautiful, communal gardens. The people present have relaxed back into talking amongst themselves. Victor also talks, hushed and reassuring words with his siren that carry none of the weight of their circumstance. But then the door Anya disappeared through opens again. And the Council enters.

 

A young man is first, with a familiar sharp jawbone and dark hair which Victor’s surprised to see here. He’d expected Jean-Jacques Leroy’s father, Alain Leroy, not his bounding and overconfident son. But the man fixes the courtroom with a dazzling smile and strolls up to the seat at the black table furthest from the onlookers, pulling it back and planting himself there with the air of one who belongs. Interestingly, he is indeed in the ruby red robes of the Council.

 

Lilia is behind him. Her austere, reassuring face gives no acknowledgement of the people gathered like the man before her, but she takes one of the two seats that sit at the centremost point of the table. She’s resplendent in her robes, dark lipstick matching their tone to devastating effect. Lilia has clearly lost none of the showmanship from her ballet days.

 

After these two it’s the usual assortment of older and a couple of young by comparison Councilmembers. One of them, a dark haired woman, smiles at Victor, and he returns it. Councilwoman Min-So Park is a generally silent presence in any room, but has been friendly enough to Victor over the years. Victor respects her unswerving devotion for justice even if it does mean sometimes people get harsh sentences because of her vote.

 

That’s two Victor knows he can rely on. Lilia for obvious reasons, and Min-So for her moral compass. That leaves the wild card of Jean-Jacques in with three others that Victor does not know and is anxious for it. Victor feels a stab of annoyance then. If Alain Leroy had been here he’d be sure of three votes. Although often loud, blustering and not to be trusted with sensitive information, Alain not only likes Victor, but has a sturdy grasp his own morality. Though he does not possess the fine touch of Lilia or Min-So. His son is a complete unknown.

 

Well not complete, Victor knows and has beaten Jean-Jacques many times in the academy simulations, but he has no idea how he views these defeats later on in life.

 

When every member of the Council is seated — Anya bringing over a jug of water which she places on the wide banister of the railing for Yuuri — the bald man sat beside Lilia speaks up. Victor recognises him as Councilmember Josef Karpisek. Chris has mentioned him, but was unable to get in touch with the Councilman when they needed him in the initial crisis so Victor doesn’t have much hope for his favour. The most he wants is his fairness.

 

“I call into order this Council trial to review the case of Captain Victor Nikiforov and the crew of the Starship Neuro,” Karpisek says, his calm, booming voice ceasing any last whispers from the rows behind them.

 

Victor’s eyes had been trailing over the other two Councilmembers, but they snap to Karpisek at this announcement. His crew? Victor knew they were all under scrutiny but hadn’t known for sure his crew would be also put on trial. _This_ is why he only let a few in on the plan and gave them the option to back out. Victor’s throat is suddenly very tight, the nerves that he’s managed to avoid all morning making a violent appearance, even if he doesn’t let it show on his face. He seeks out Lilia’s eyes, but the Councilwoman is looking down at her pad, fingers flicking across its surface.

 

Then, the warm brush of fingers over his mind. Victor nearly gasps aloud. He hasn’t felt the strange sensation in so long.

 

Yuuri and he discussed and agreed upon this form of communication. Yuuri had told him that, unsurprisingly, it is only done between close friends, family and mates unless the situation calls for it, and even in these intimate relationships it isn’t everyday. Sirens prefer to use light displays, seeing as they’re generally floating too far away from each other to touch and tend to find them more comfortable. Some find it confusing to share another’s thoughts too often, and Victor can’t help but agree. He likes having Yuuri in his head, but the sensation is odd.

 

But now it is soothing. Yuuri cannot press his thoughts into Victor’s mind as its not receptive to them, but he can quietly search for Victor’s memories of him, Victor being reminded of them as Yuuri looks. He feels a squeeze of his fingers as Yuuri brings forth a particularly sweet one, probably a moment Yuuri hadn’t even realised was significant at the time. The siren had just been brushing his teeth. But in this memory Victor watches him place his toothbrush next to Victor’s in the holder, like so many other objects he’s added to Victor’s previously sparse rooms.

 

When Victor blinks back around from it, it’s only been seconds, but his eyes are a little wet nevertheless. He turns and beams at Yuuri, knowing the siren must’ve guessed about the spike in his nerves and responded accordingly, with all the warmth he always brings. Yuuri only smiles back.

 

“Let it be noted,” Karpisek is saying, and Victor reluctantly drags his attention back him. “That Councilman Alain Leroy was unavailable for the date of this trial, but due to the Council’s feeling that the issue be addressed with urgency, his apprentice and son Jean-Jacques Leroy will be filling in for him at this time. Jean-Jacques Leroy holds the temporary but full power of the vote for this trial.”

 

There’s an outbreak of whispering from the onlookers.

 

“Really?” Victor hears Yuri Plisetsky mutter from the row behind. “This clown?”

 

But the room is quickly silenced as Lilia raises a hand. Her brow is arched into an unimpressed line and Victor wonders if this is for the announcement, or for the reaction it gained. Either way she motions for Victor.

 

“Captain Victor Nikiforov of the Starship Neuro,” she addresses him, and Victor feels his stomach tighten. “Please come before the Council.”

 

There’s one last squeeze of his hand even though Yuuri’s gone from his head now. Victor flashes a warm look at his love, who’s sitting with a calm, reserved expression as Victor rises and finds his way to the gate in the railing. He slips through it and crosses the floor to stand before the Council.

 

“Councilmembers,” Victor greets, nodding his head to them but keeping his mask firmly on. They don’t need to see the smirk from his Space Fleet posters. They need to see the metal of a military Captain.

 

“Captain Nikiforov,” Karpisek starts, steepling his fingers over the pad he has on the table before him. “You are bought before the Council to decide whether your intervention in the crimes of Doctor Alexander Howard was done with fair judgement and strong leadership, despite you not alerting the Council to your intentions.”

 

Victor sees the slightest twitch in Lilia’s mouth at this last part. He too remembers their first conversation on the matter; late one night over a video call, as Lilia invited him to share a drink with her.

 

“Accepted,” Victor agrees with a short nod.

 

“Firstly we shall list the concerns of the Council, and review some of the facts from Doctor Howard’s ongoing case,” Karpisek goes on, bringing his pad up to flick through the information on it.

 

Victor feels a little sick then. He knew that Doctor Howard’s case had not been concluded and would come up here, but this means that his own case, his own judgement will be called into question for the other trial. One that’ll set the fate of Yuuri’s people. Victor says a small prayer in his head.

 

“Captain,” Karpisek says, looking Victor full in the face for the first time. And Victor, usually good at reading people, can see nothing in his eyes. “You may make your case and will remain ready for questioning even when others are called to stand in your place. You may begin.”

 

Victor takes a deep breath.

 

“Firstly,” Victor starts, “I’m going to start with perhaps a slightly unconventional but important point.”

 

“Quelle surprise,” Jean-Jacques mutters, and although Lilia shoots him a sharp look from three seats over, the comment garners a smattering of laughter from the onlookers.

 

It doesn’t sway Victor. If anything the renewed lightness to the mood of the courtroom is a bit of relief. He smiles at the Council. Six pairs of emotionless eyes stare back at him.

 

“Yes,” he agrees, letting the full weight of his voice fall so he can be sure of every person’s attention. Victor’s always been good at the performance after all. “I think by now I’m known for my unconventional methods as Captain.”

 

Victor folds his hands casually behind his back and tips his chin up so his hair sweeps back, exposing both cold blue eyes.

 

“But I think in this mission it was not only useful,” Victor takes a pause before the plunge of his next sentence. “But vital in the face of corruption in Space Fleet Command.”

 

There’s an outbreak of talk from the onlookers to his left, which takes more than a raised hand from Lilia but an actual spoken order for silence. It’s still very effective.

 

Min-So Park is watching Victor with that calm, piercing gaze of hers. It’s like being surveyed by a cat, unsure if it's going to scratch you or roll over for belly rubs. The man sat beside Min-So, in between her and Lilia, has also not been distracted by the outbreak of noise. It’s Councilman Henry Stane. He’s a middle aged man, younger than some of his peers but still with greys in his dark hair and lines about his eyes. His face is sharp, and Victor tries to tell himself he doesn’t like it because it resembles many of those he sees about the Council House, not because he has reason to. The high brow and cheekbones are probably not far from what Victor’s own will look like later in life.

 

“Go ahead,” Karpisek says with a wave of his hand. But he too is looking more curious than before, though he and the others no doubt already know about the corruption allegation from the Doctor’s case.

 

“Thank you,” Victor says easily. “If I may return to the original point I wanted to make, I’d like to tell you about my experience with the sirens I have met personally.”

 

Victor dips his head, taking a moment even though the room is still silent around him, anticipation ripe. Then he looks up.

 

“I met my first siren when he was hurt, scared, and chased away from his kind by one of our own,” Victor recounts, his posture loose but nothing lost in the weight of his words. “We took him into the ship thinking he could only have been a corpse, what with how we found him floating without a suit in the vacuum. But then he woke up, and I met the most charming individual I have ever had the pleasure of encountering.”

 

Victor can see Yuuri’s eyes on him in his periphery, can practically feel the heat of them on his face. Victor allows it to warm the rest of him too.

 

“Yuuri Katsuki had been hunted and hurt by humans,” Victor goes on, voice carrying to every corner of the attentive room. “But, although he was fully capable of doing so, he did not attack us upon waking to find himself surrounded. Instead he sought communication, using a siren tool that allowed him to learn my languages, and could be a fascinating and no doubt valuable insight for us if sirens feel comfortable sharing it in the future.”

 

Yuuri and he have discussed this beforehand, so Victor knows he’s not out of line to plant the idea in the Council’s head. Something as incredible as telepathy needs to be seen as an asset, not an unknown threat to Space Fleet.

 

“He then went on to prove himself to be a compassionate individual, with a strong set of morals and values that I’d be very happy to have among my crew,” Victor says, allowing himself a little smile. He thinks he sees some sort of spasm of glee from Phichit out of the corner of his eye, but ignores it.

 

“Hearing that Doctor Howard’s mission had not only been approved but backed by Command therefore made me worried. The Doctor described this ‘new’ lifeform as dangerous, with absolutely no emotional intelligence, and indicated that he’d like to research them in an invasive and violent way. I could not stand for this, but as I realised at the time, could not tell Command about it as there was an obvious case of corruption. I didn’t know how far up the chain this went. I therefore acted upon my own instincts, for the sake of the lives of a species that do not currently fall under the Allied Planets’ protection, but deserve every right to do so.”

 

With that Victor falls silent. There’s a moment before the Council speaks up, and Victor realises they’re waiting to see if he will go on to give them a blow by blow account of the mission. But his eyes slip to Henry Stane, and Victor knows he has to keep the events close to his chest until asked for them. That way he can still shape them easily to the nature of the question.

 

“Thank you, Captain,” Lilia says this time, her and Karpisek taking equal leads in all trials. “I will now open the floor to my fellow Councilmembers for questions.”

 

Min-So Park is the first to speak.

 

“As we have heard,” Min-So asks, and although they know each other in passing but not well enough for Victor to have trusted all those weeks ago, Min-So is careful to give nothing away in her expression. “You suspected Doctor Howard of nefarious research procedures. What was your evidence for this conclusion?”

 

Victor, although expecting the question, feels his heart skip a beat.

 

“As the bodies of several sirens have been found on board the Starship Orian,” Victor states, words empty of any emotion although the subject is the heaviest for him, “I think it’s clear there were nefarious activities happening on the Doctor’s ship.”

 

There’s a few intakes of breath from the benches. Victor knows the media have been covering Doctor Howard and the Orian’s case, but it must be quite something to hear the atrocities referred to in an official Council Court.

 

“With all due respect,” the voice of Henry Stane breaks in then, and Victor feels his stomach sink back from where it lifted at the room’s reaction. “Councilwoman Park was not asking what evidence was found in the wake of your destruction of several military commissioned ships, but what you saw _before_ then that legitimised the course of your actions.”

 

So that’s how it was going to be. Victor stares into the cold face of Councilman Stane for only a moment, reading all he needs there but still wondering how a man can find it in himself to dig holes in a very sturdy murder case. Which happened under the reign of a Council he sits upon. Maybe it happened _because_ he sits upon that Council. Would certainly explain a few things.

 

“There was none but the Doctor’s word,” Victor states, tone clipped but neutral. “And the state of Yuuri when I found him, along with his testimony that other sirens had gone missing. As lives were in the balance, I saw that as enough cause for action.”

 

Victor makes the decision to say the next sentence without overthinking it.

 

“And as I know the Council would like to do soon — although are delaying due to no doubt important reasons — it will be good to give the families of the missing sirens closure with the news of their fate.”

 

It’s a gamble. The room knows it and there’s a few mutters in its wake. Victor’s already questioned Command, but now he’s questioning the Council’s handling of them. To their faces. It’s funny how calm he feels. But then again Victor’s always known he thrives on a challenge.

 

Stane blinks slowly back at him. His features are ever so slightly more expressive than Karpisek’s, but he’s still well trained. He _does not_ like Victor, that’s for sure. Stane looks away first.

 

“Perhaps,” says the stately woman sat between JJ and Karpisek, a stranger to Victor beyond her name, Evgenia Drumov, “we could hear more about the extent of the damage to the ships alongside the injury inflicted upon the siren. This is afterall a trial of your judgement, Captain, and I’d like to know what force you thought necessary whilst operating without approval from Command.”

 

Victor swallows. The Councilwoman has the same hardness as Stane and is the oldest amongst them, but she’s looking at Victor with more open curiosity. And her question is undeniably fair despite it being clinical.

 

“Of course,” Victor agrees, and rattles off a review of the damage to the ships. The Council no doubt already have the full details, but are measuring his comprehension of the cost of his actions. They’re not bad stats, most of the ships only damaged enough to immobilize not kill. But of course the Orian took quite a thumping.

 

Which is why it’s unsurprising that Karpisek shifts his gaze to the side, towards the two rows of people summoned along with Victor.

 

“Before we continue with the review of Captain Nikiforov’s actions,” Karpisek starts, and Victor feels his spirits rise in an odd mix of trepidation and hope, knowing what’s coming. “I’d like to hear from the man who, as is still up for debate, could act as prosecutor and victim in this and Doctor Alexander Howard’s case. Yuuri Katsuki, please come before the council.”

 

Victor turns, pulse thudding in his ears, to see Yuuri rise in a swirl of skirts. The siren sweeps past his companions, who are all grinning as his steps alight on the marble flags like snowfall. Yuuri is let through the gate by Anya, who looks no less vulnerable to the way the siren moves than Victor, although he’s slightly more adapted to handling it now.

 

“For now you may take your seat, Captain,” Karpisek states. And even his eyes are on the graceful movements of Yuuri’s limbs, though they hold no interest beyond an analysing eye.

 

Victor goes, passing Yuuri as he does with only the lightest brush of their fingers and an exchanged glance. But Victor feels it deeply. He wants to hug Yuuri, hold him close before he’s put under an eye that Victor has had to deal with his entire career. But he can’t, so Victor takes comfort in the light brush of fingers across the back of his hand.

 

As he takes his seat however, Victor’s alarmed to see that Stane’s eyes seem to have caught the movement and are now shifting back and forth between Victor and Yuuri. There’s an awful, dawning look of comprehension on the Councilman’s face.

 

“Young man,” Karpisek starts, but Yuuri dips his head with a smile that makes him pause. “Something the matter?”

 

“I’d like to remind the Council,” Yuuri says, his voice softer than Victor’s but holding the attention of the room just as easily. He eloquently twists the words he learnt from Victor’s head, mimicking Victor’s erudite selection but manipulating each to his own style. “That whilst I identify as a man for the sake of ease whilst conversing with humans, I am not a man, but a siren. I come with my own culture and history, one that has been marred by men and has had to grow around it. I’d like that to be taken into consideration when addressed by the Council.”

 

Victor nearly swoons. Yuuri is a being born of ice and stone, baptised in blood and stardust. And he looks into the faces of the Council, clothed in the dress of his people, with the fierce eyes of one that has seen atrocities. And turned them into strengths.

 

Whilst Karpisek looks only slightly wrong-footed, Stane is unable to hide his annoyance. Lilia on the other hand seems as entranced as Victor, gazing at the siren with the undeniable desire she has to see all beautiful beings turned in the art of motion.

 

Victor leans over to whisper in Christophe’s ear.

 

“This is it.”

 

“What’s it?” Chris asks, turning his head a minimal amount, gaze still arrested by the siren.

 

“The moment I admit I’m a giant gay mess and you never have to listen to me about anything,” Victor whispers.

 

Christophe nearly does a very bad job at hiding his snort of laughter, but manages to turn it into a coughing fit. When Victor turns back to Yuuri, still smirking, he sees the siren looking at him with raised eyebrows. It’s a playfully scolding expression, which of course does nothing to quell the very real desire Victor’s suppressing to tackle and kiss him.

 

“A fair point,” Karpisek says, the barest hint of amusement in his tone. “Well then, I’ll leave it to you to present the slights against yourself and your kind. Understand your testimony will be fed into the trial of Doctor Howard, and may be called for again before its conclusion.”

 

Yuuri nods, and Victor sees his hands loosen from where they’ve momentarily bunched in his skirts, his shoulders drawing back. Victor is so ridiculously in love and this is really not the place.

 

“Doctor Howard pursued me for perhaps three weeks,” Yuuri starts. “Though I can’t be sure. I wasn’t paying attention and we measure time differently to you. I managed to escape him repeatedly, but after one close call I was injured and lost consciousness. This is when I met Vitya.”

 

Victor feels a little thrill through his body as Yuuri doesn’t hide the nickname. The room has noticed too, some ill disguised whispers, speculative and gleeful, fly around. Yuuri just blinks slowly at the Council, daring them to comment.

 

“Can I enquire,” Councilwoman Evgenia Drumov starts, peering at Yuuri curiously over her spectacles, “how you did escape? You are only one siren, and though we are aware you have… tools at your disposal, you say you were injured?”

 

Yuuri, his face still a mask of cool calm, smiles a little at the question.

 

“Sirens have portals,” he says, as casually as though he’s announcing they have ovens. “I used them to stay ahead of the Doctor’s ship.”

 

The room’s buzzing again, but dies down quickly, eager to hear more.

 

“Portals?” Min-So Park this time, keen interest on her face.

 

“Yes,” Yuuri replies, turning his steady gaze on her now. “I can’t go into the details as I’m a dancer, not a scientist, but they help us travel long distances much like your warp speed. I had the very lovely pleasure of meeting Vasilisa Nikiforova, who I know contributed a great deal to your travel. Perhaps I can discuss it with her.”

 

It’s a shiny piece of bait. Promise of a new technology along with a reminder that Yuuri is already a helpful acquaintance to one of the Council’s greatest assets; Victor’s mother.

 

“Thank you,” Min-So Park says, and Victor’s overjoyed to see she has seen the possibilities and is pleased. “I think that’d be helpful for us.”

 

“I’d like to ask,” the drawling voice of Henry Stane cuts in, “how you reacted when faced with the Starship Orian. I think the Council and humans in general...”

 

Here Stane throws a glance to the onlookers as he prepares to spread the seeds of unease amongst them.

 

“Would like to hear about the weapons sirens are in possession of. I understand that your kind has taken out other ships before, causing no doubt countless deaths that’ve been recorded as tragic accidents, but will now have to be reviewed.”

 

The buzzing in the chamber holds none of the excited curiosity from previously. Or it does, but now it’s tainted by anger. How regularly do these people travel through space? How many have friends and family that could be thrown into a siren’s violent path?

 

Victor leans forward, physically reacting to the tight desire in his heart to reach his mate. Yuuri stands motionless, his chin still tipped up as he considers Councilman Stane for a long moment before answering his question. His molten amber eyes seem to read everything in the hard browns they meet.

 

“I reacted as any person does under threat,” Yuuri starts, and his voice lacks any emotion as he described what must’ve been a terrifying time for him. But Victor notices his careful choice of the word ‘person’. “In fear and self defense. I tried to flee and attacked when I found my path blocked. I was very lucky not to be taken that first time, when I didn't know the capabilities of the Doctor's ship. If I had I wouldn’t be standing before you now.”

 

This last phrase is laced, not for fear for himself, but with the loss of those before him. Though the sirens might not have been friends to Yuuri, there's an undeniable mourning there.

 

“And what did you attack with?” Stane presses, though Victor feels his support amongst those in the room wavering.

 

“My voice,” Yuuri says, then gives a grim smile. “I am a siren after all.”

 

Victor’s able to drag his gaze away from Yuuri to check the reactions of the rest of the Council. This is the threat to humankind that could tip their vote. A spike of fear, the fear of loss, suffering, and the unknown, is a powerful one.

 

“I’d like to propose,” Jean-Jacques speaks up for the first time since his little joke, having shown uncharacteristic reserve as a newcomer to the panel. “A demonstration. The Council should know what this weapon looks like.”

 

“I agree,” Stane quickly seconds, and Victor sees Drumov nodding her head along.

 

Victor, fighting a smile, realises Stane’s mistake. He no doubt thinks any weapons display will be terrifying to behold. Stane should’ve thought about what the connotations of the title of siren are.

 

Yuuri shows no reaction beyond a nod of acceptance, before he drops his head and brings his hands forward to be cupped together in front of him. There’s a beat of silence, and then Yuuri moves.

 

The cupped hands come up as the siren raises his head, before releasing them and starting to dance. A note of pure blue light ripples from Yuuri’s lips on his first turn, his voice rising with it and filling the chamber with its unearthly, achingly beautiful notes. The words of the music are strange. Indistinguishable as siren language rises and falls with Yuuri's voice. But the meaning couldn't be clearer.

 

It's a song of loss, of undeniable pain and mourning for a peaceful people that have had to become attackers in the face of violence from humans. And Yuuri dances to it, his skirts rising up around him, feet lighter than air on the marble flags as his body twists and plunges with each delicate, unspeakable emotion displayed.

 

It should be an odd display for a trial. But of course, siren dance is undeniably entrancing.

Victor is physically unable to tear his eyes away until the end, his own heart song rising in him as he watches his love do what he does best. But when Victor does manage it, he sees that there are countless tearful eyes amongst the onlookers.

 

Yuuri’s voice dies. And there’s ringing silence in the court.

 

The siren’s the first to speak, his eyes back on the Council with undisguised challenge in them. He names the song in the same strange language it was sung in.

 

“...that’s its name,” Yuuri explains, gazing coolly at Councilman Stane. “It’s a song for mourning. We used it a lot after humans blew up one of our nurseries in order to make a highway. Many children died.”

 

There’s a collective intake of breath from the onlookers. Henry Stane seems to be taking a long moment to gather himself, no doubt picking his unpleasant expectations up off the floor and fumbling for a new angle.

 

“That,” he starts with, and then straightens slightly in his chair, seeming to have found his point of attack, “was not what I asked for.”

 

“Not quite,” Yuuri agrees, gaze shifting from him to Jean-Jacques. “But I think your request should be carried out when there is less chance it could hurt someone.”

 

The words are double edged blade. They remind those watching of Yuuri’s concern for human safety and willingness to cooperate, whilst also pointing out the Council’s apparent lack of both.

 

“Research,” Stane manages to say, though it sounds grabbed from a thread he is fast losing. “Into what your voice can do. If it has taken out other ships and is a threat, we should know exactly how it works.”

 

There’s a hand gripping Victor’s arm. He comes back from the hot, sharp thing that rose in him to realise he’s tensed to stand. Victor turns to find Chris’ steady gaze on him, and the First Officer gives a little shake of his head. Victor manages to relax, but only just. Because Stane is suggesting the exact same thing as the Doctor wanted.

 

Yuuri realises this too, and is fixing Stane with a look that does not disguise his disgust.

 

“I’d like to remind the Council,” he says, tone not bothering to stay calm but coldly furious. _“Research_ was the very purpose of Doctor Howard’s mission.”

 

There’s a slightly uncomfortable shifting among the panel. No doubt some of them feel that research _is_ needed and would like to see every aspect of siren anatomy. But there’s the undeniable body count this cause has gained.

 

“We’ve been made aware,” Evgenia Drumov speaks up, and although she keeps her face impassive, there’s an effort in her tone to for reconciliation. Good, thinks Victor. She should be ashamed of her Council. “That you have expressed willingness for an univasive observation of yourself, and have spoken to other sirens about putting themselves forward for such, um... tests.”

 

The room, which has been tensely silent ever since Yuuri’s heart wrenching dance and announcement, seems to shift in cautious agreement. They’re apparently pleased by the evidence of Yuuri’s cooperative nature.

 

But Yuuri’s face is still hard as he looks to the Councilwoman.

 

“I did,” he agrees. “But that was to be carried out solely by the Science and Medical teams aboard the Neuro, lead by Doctor Seung-Gil Lee and Doctor Otabek Altin. I do not consent to any research carried out by the Council or Command.”

 

“May I ask why?” Lilia asks, and Victor flashes her a surprised look.

 

But Lilia is watching Yuuri with a mostly neutral expression, maybe a hint of affected condescension. And Victor understands. She’s setting herself up as a point of attack, giving Yuuri yet another opportunity to speak of his most emotive argument, letting him challenge the Council with it again. The woman is an artist.

 

“Yes,” Yuuri agrees, and fixes his gaze on her. “Because my people have been hunted, murdered and mutilated. And there were _children_ in that asteroid belt. I will not subject myself as a research specimen, or a tool for the Council until these crimes are rectified and families given closure. I also ask you to consider whether you would demand any among your Allied Planets for full weapons and defensive plans, nevermind if these were contained within their very bodies. Although, sirens would not ask for compensation for the crimes committed against us, as one of those planets might.”

 

If Victor looks like he’s about to vault over the railing and kiss his siren it’s because he’s barely holding back from doing so. Because Yuuri stands before a broken system, and tells them their laws cannot contain him. They can only serve.

 

“Captain, you’re drooling,” says Mila’s low voice in his ear, the Officer leaning forward from her seat behind him.

 

Victor lets out a huff of disbelief because he doesn’t think he’s _that_ bad. But when Yuuri flashes him a quick, hot glance, he has to reconsider.

 

“Don’t worry,” Phichit’s voice now, sliding across the bench from where he had been sat next to Yuuri. “I’d let him step on me too.”

 

Victor nearly reacts to that one with words, but then Josef Karpisek is speaking again.

 

“I think the floor should be opened to others from the crew of the Starship Neuro,” Karpisek says, before looking to either side of him. “If my fellow Council Members have no more questions for Yuuri Katsuki at this time?”

 

There’s nods of agreement, but Victor doesn’t see the slump in Stane’s posture that he’d like. The man still has fight in him. Or is very good at putting on a front. Victor hopes it’s the latter.

 

Chris is called to the floor first and Yuuri returns to settle beside Victor. Victor presses their arms close together, reaching out to lace their fingers together. He doesn’t care if Stane notices this time. It’s immensely reassuring, better than anything else for Victor’s nerves. The Captain gives his siren’s knee a gentle nudge with his own. And hears a responding pleased hum from beside him.

 

First Officer Christophe Giacometti stands before the Council without any of the teasing flirtation he usually exudes. He does however, slip a little in when he’s finished his initial account and starts being questioned further, but it remains appropriate and has the onlookers eating out of his hand. Victor gives him a grateful little elbow when he sits back down.

 

Next is Seung-Gil to backup Victor’s account of his conversation with Doctor Howard, as he was there in his office for it, as well as to give the scientific insights he’s gained into sirens.

 

There’s a brief attempt by Stane at this point to suggest Victor’s judgement could’ve been marred by personal feelings for Yuuri. Perhaps he chooses Seung-Gil to pose this to because of the Officer’s apparently unfeeling demeanor. Or because he can see a scientist like the Doctor in him. But Seung-Gil topples this easily, and the very coolness that made him a viable target for Stane adds an air of neutrality to his observations.

 

Next it’s Mila for further questioning on the Neuro’s attack on the Doctor’s fleet, and for observations on the sirens’ weapons. But the Chief Security and Tactical Officer also works in mention of the powerful, downright terrifying new stunning weapon they saw used on the siren Minako. It’s effective. Not only did the Doctor get approval and backing from Command, he got _toys._

 

Lastly it’s Otabek who comes forward. The effortless but undeniable surety the Doctor holds in his words has even dry accounts of siren biology sounding interesting. And Otabek slips in a little about Yuuri when sick, a good choice as it paints him as very human. Although of course Yuuri is not.

 

The siren has been keeping hold of Victor’s hand throughout this, and as Otabek finishes his piece, Yuuri leans in close to whisper in Victor’s ear.

 

“We’ve got this, Vitya,” he says, words tickling over Victor’s ear and pulsepoint. “Let me see you face them again. It’s truly an… arresting view.”

 

This playfulness, the last bit of teasing Victor’s given as he’s called to stand again, is so distinctly _them_ that the Captain rises with every ounce of confidence he needs. He releases Yuuri’s hands and goes to the gate as he’s bid.

 

Otabek passes him and there’s a bite of ferocity in his eyes, the kind that Victor knows sits somewhere deep and hidden in his Chief Medical Officer. Otabek hides it of course, at the bedside of his patients and in front of the Council, but his sense of injustice and natural response to it is just as strong as the rest of Victor’s crew. It’s why he chose them after all.

 

Victor steps into the stretch of space before that long, black table.

 

The Council are muttering amongst themselves. Although they don’t exit the room as they confer, there’s messages sent back and forth on the pads in front of them, tech so clean it’s like a real conversation.

 

Finally, they settle. Victor, who had been waiting patiently, every air of calm about his naturally poised army posture, smiles at them politely.

 

“Captain Victor Nikiforov,” Lilia says, and the slant of her mouth gives nothing away as she regards him with that x-ray gaze. “The Council has reached its verdict, and proclaim yourself and the crew of the Starship Neuro to be clear of all charges.”

 

There’s an ill controlled uproar from the two rows of Victor’s companions. But as he turns, just before his eyes naturally find Yuuri’s, he sees that there are others among the onlookers clapping with grim satisfaction. It’s good, he can see it in their faces. They want justice for this beautiful new race that’s been bought before them in Yuuri. He knows the news of children’s deaths fell hard amongst them, whatever casualties humans may have sustained in return.

 

Victor can already feel it releasing in his body. It rises up in his throat, behind his eyes. Flowing out of him in a wave of relief that laps at his siren’s feet, whose gaze he manages to drag himself away from as the chamber quiets.

 

“You are free to go with all your titles and honours in place, and no punishment given,” Lilia goes on, and there is now a look of hard won pleasure on her face too. “That’s with the full blessing of the Council. We hope to see many more great things from you in future, Captain.”

 

Victor bows his head low, mainly to her above the others, but he spares a glance for Min-So Park also as he straightens back up to salute them. She’s also looking very pleased by the verdict.

 

“Thank you, your honour,” Victor says, meaning every ounce of that for the woman whose eyes have now drifted to Yuuri. Victor’s follow.

 

His crew are a mess of arms and smiling faces as they embrace each other, and the siren’s shine out where he’s pressed between Chris and Phichit. Victor grins, and goes to him.

 

There’s another wave of noise as Victor vaults over the barrier of course, ignoring the gate and thinking he might have heard a huff from Lilia for it. He’s enclosed into the mess of bodies, his own seeking Yuuri’s as his hair gets ruffled and his back slapped. Victor plants a kiss square on the siren’s mouth, ignoring the wolf whistles that follow.

 

When he resurfaces, Yuuri’s arms still around him, he glances over to see Henry Stane watching them. The man’s still dangerous, no doubt bitter about the loss and in a very powerful position to do something about it. But if Victor’s right, and Stane is in fact involved in the corruption that allowed the Doctor’s mission in the first place, then Lilia is now free to hunt him and may God have mercy upon his soul. Or maybe no mercy. The issue isn’t for Victor to worry about anymore.

 

A couple of the Councilmembers find them before they leave. Min-So Park seeks out Seung-Gil, expressing an interest to be of service in his research. Without prompting from Victor the Chief Science Officer declines her offer as she sits on the Council, but agrees that in future there could be the potential to work together.

 

Lilia of course comes over to congratulate them, but surprisingly so does Jean-Jacques.

 

“A good show,” the Apprentice Councilmember booms, slapping Victor rather hard on the back. “It’s good to see your career shaping up into something after all this time, Nikiforov. I decided to go down the path of politics myself, as you can see.”

 

Victor hears a snort from Yuri Plisetsky and what sounds like some very choice insults, but smiles politely into those proud blue eyes.

 

“Thank you, Leroy,” Victor replies, not acknowledging the success of his own career prior to what Jean-Jacques sees as ‘shaping up’.

 

“Oh please,” Jean-Jacques scoffs fondly, laying a hand on Victor’s shoulder. Honestly Victor’s a little surprised the man hasn’t flung an arm around him and suggested a boy’s party weekend away. He seems the type. “Call me JJ.”

 

“Of course,” Victor agrees, still smiling. “And feel free to call me Victor.”

 

They make a quick escape after that. There’s even more reporters being held back from the steps of the Council House now, but the group manage to slip through with security’s help and hurry away. Victor of course can’t let go of Yuuri the entire way back to the ship, his relief showing itself in an extra clingy way. When they get aboard, the couple are practically carried to the dining hall, which upon arrival they find festooned with streamers and balloons. A large banner hangs from the ceiling that reads: “Congratulations on not being a criminal”. And underneath it stands Victor’s mother.

 

Vasilisa Nikiforova, who hadn’t been at the trial because _certain_ members of the Council felt her presence would sway favour, hurries to meet them.

 

“I heard the news!” she half shrieks, and flings her arms around Victor and Yuuri’s necks. “You’re all over the television, but Phichit messaged me too.”

 

Victor shoots a look of thanks at his navigator, who just gives a peace sign in return and saunters off to the food table. Victor knew that despite his mother’s forced confidence, Vasilisa has actually been very worried. He hugs her close along with Yuuri.

 

“It’s alright, Mama,” he assures her as they part, Vasilisa’s eyes shining. “We’re all cleared.”

 

“Thank you though,” Yuuri says, still with a hand on her arm. “Just knowing you’ve been around has been great, seeing as it’s been too tense for my own family to be here.”

 

Something crumples a little in Vasilisa’s face at this, and Victor panics that she’s going to start crying. But then she just pulls them both close again.

 

There’s quite a few more hugs as the party gets started, some from the most unexpected places. Plisetsky for instance, catches Yuuri in a death grip that Victor thinks the siren might misinterpret as an attack for a moment, but next second Yuuri relaxes into it.

 

It’s a good night with a lot of laughter, drink and food. The kitchen staff have outdone themselves and Victor finds his hunger, absent in the trial but now ravenous, fully quenched. There’s even a bit of dancing at the end, Victor getting to hold his siren close and spin him madly. But by the time its died down — when the dancers are just swaying together, or have drifted into smaller groups around the edge of the room for drunken heart to hearts — Victor’s glad he can sneak Yuuri away. He has a different, deeper hunger now.

 

* * *

 

A couple of hours later, when Yuuri’s drifting off with his head on Victor’s chest, Victor looks around his bedroom.

 

His uniform and Yuuri’s dress are discarded on the floor, a telltale trail leading from the lounge to the bedroom. But there are other touches of them too. Yuuri’s tea set, which he can glimpse through the archway on the low coffee table, the lounge still illuminated by lamplight. There’s also small, leafy plants dotted around the place, acquired from Seung-Gil because even he can’t resist the siren’s adorable fascination with them. A selection of Yuuri’s nicknacks lie scattered around too; an interestingly shaped sapphire, a comb, his growing collection of pens.

 

And there’s photos. Victor sees his own face propped up on the chest of drawers and smiling back at him from a few tacked up on the wall. Yuuri’s cheek is pressed up against his own in most, their happy moments captured mainly by Phichit’s hand. But the siren’s also put up one he found of Victor and his mother.

 

This is what Yuuri’s given him. A home. Life and love. And all the things in between.

 

Victor waves a hand to make all the lights in his rooms go out, and then snuggles deeper under the duvet, his siren clutched close to his heart. Finally, he thinks to himself. Safe at last.

**Author's Note:**

> There's still more to come after this don't you dare leave me.
> 
> Come be a mess with me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ewokthrowdown) too.


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